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Tuesday, May 31, 2005

in memoriam

i hope you all had a meaningful holiday yesterday. it was a particularly poignant memorial day at Villa Nice Guy. we looked back fondly on a dearly departed beloved one who had only recently left us. that's right: Mr Sleep. baby nice guy's dutch grannie, omi, left town on sunday, taking with her our old friend. we miss you, Mr Sleep.

here is a quick diary, beginning at noon on sunday, when the in-laws took their leave of us (they almost got away with the baby. we hadn't noticed that they had discreetly packed her in the igloo cooler until she whimpered just before they closed the trunk. very crafty, omi nice guy!). here is how our first unassisted day went:

noon, Sunday: feeling confident. empowered. refreshed. ready to take on this parenting business.

12:07 pm, Sunday: why won't this baby remove her fingers from her eyes?

12:16 pm, Sunday: and what is the deal with that screeching?

12:38 pm, Sunday: WHEN ARE THIS CHILD'S PARENTS COMING TO PICK HER UP?

12:39 pm, Sunday: oh she was just hungry. no problem; got it all sorted out.

1:08 pm, Sunday: should milk be coming out of her nose in high-pressure blasts like that?

2:13 pm, Sunday: baby sneezes during application of diaper rash cream (or as we call it 'round these parts: crack spackle), instantly loosening her sphincter. baby craps all over father's hand. father still in frame of mind where he think this is about the coolest/funniest thing ever.

2:22 pm, Sunday: a changed, fed and swaddled baby comes very close to dozing off when she has several audible bowel movements. should dad risk disturbing placid baby by changing her, or should he let her marinade in her own feces? where is the new york times ethicist when you need him?

2:46 pm, Sunday: baby making horrible screeching sound. am realizing i can tell difference between her cries: the condor, the bald eagle, the jackal, the moose in heat. i can tell them apart, but have no idea what they signify

3:12 pm, Sunday: baby asleep. we grab stroller and cruise the neighborhood.

5:41 pm, Sunday: baby has slept more than two blissful hours, screaming only when the stroller stops. or slows down. or turns suddenly.

5:51 - 7 pm, Sunday: feed baby, burp baby, beg baby to stop screaming, change baby. repeat as necessary in whatever order you want, it makes no difference. call me sisyphus. (or sissy-face. that works too.)

7pm - 8:30 pm, Sunday: baby grunts like a truffle-hunting pig onto something good. howls every time father's pinky is removed from her mouth; protests every time one attempts to place her into a bassinet.

9 pm - 11: 30 pm, Sunday: quick feeding followed by two more blissful hours of babysleep, during which time mom and dad have dinner and cringe in abject terror every time baby moves. things are looking good. no doubt she will sleep through the night!

midnight - 5 am, Monday: feed baby, burp baby, beg baby to stop screaming, change baby, feed baby, burp baby, beg baby to stop screaming, change baby, feed baby, burp baby, beg baby to stop screaming, change baby, feed baby, burp baby, beg baby to stop screaming, change baby, feed baby, burp baby, beg baby to stop screaming, change baby, feed baby, burp baby, beg baby to stop screaming, change baby.

5:03 am, Monday: check the going rate for healthy newborns on ebay.

5:44 am, Monday: baby falls asleep in father's arms, refuses to sleep anywhere else. mother has finally drifted off to sleep.

8:01 am, Monday: baby ready to be fed. father's left arm completely numb and frozen in a football hold, impossible to extend.

8:57 am, Monday: feeding and changing (treatise on color of baby poo to follow shortly) largely uneventful. now that it is daylight, baby's circadian rhythms decide to let her fall peacefully asleep. her father however is hallucinating; mom has just put the laundry in the oven and the cats in the dryer. after a few minutes of adorably kicking her legs in the air and squirming on her tummy, an exhausted baby drifts back off to sleep. where was this particular child at 2 am?

11:02 - 11:47 am, Monday: baby awakes refreshed and cuter than something really cute (sorry, powers of simile failing). she is ready to be fed and i can swear she recognizes her bedraggled old man. a rush of love floods the heart. the world is beautiful.

noon, Monday: feeling confident. empowered. refreshed. ready to take on this parenting business.

6 Comments:

Blogger Jennifer Roop said...

lol - too funny...ebay.

I threaten my 4 yr old with ebay, and then on particularly bad days, throw in that he'll start at a very low reserve price. or a Buy It Now button. works like a charm.

5/31/2005 6:50 PM  
Blogger Jennifer Roop said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

5/31/2005 6:50 PM  
Blogger Candace said...

Yeah, I don't think I'll be doing the baby thing again.

Thanks for bringing me to my senses. That was a close call.

5/31/2005 7:41 PM  
Anonymous stephanie said...

ditto to what misfit said. because i was really starting to think i could go for a third. especially since, after reading your earlier post, my husband agreed to breastfeed the next one.

5/31/2005 8:34 PM  
Anonymous milkmaid said...

if it's any consolation, we didn't run into Mr. Sleep again until 9 months. and just when you think you've "made it," because she actually slept through the night, a snotty nose/ear infection/teething fit/diaper rash/yeast infection (choose one or all) hits and it's back to Day One all over again. although recovery time, i will admit, is much quicker.

"grandma 911" as she is known in our parts, lives 900 miles away. we cross off the days in anticipation of her next visit (about every six weeks) knowing a glorious week of Mr. Sleep is coming. we are four weeks away 'til the next rescue ring is thrown out and in the meantime life slugs forward in freeze frame slooooow motion...until one day you wake up and it's time to plan a one-year birthday party (or take her for her driving test at the DMV)--what happened to my little little baby girl!!!!????? you blink and she's all growns up...just wait, mr. nice guy...

6/01/2005 2:25 AM  
Blogger Kara said...

would it be really bad if I told you our daughter slept through the night precisely five times before she was 3 1/2?
It would?
Sorry.
P.S. she's an only child. And yes, that's why.

6/02/2005 8:32 AM  

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