90 Minutes
Do you know how long it takes to do things?
It used to take me five minutes to make a cup of tea, counting the steeping time. Now it takes twenty.
It used to take a half hour to shower, get dressed, put on make up. Now it takes all day, if it happens at all, and usually that's because I decide to forgo some or all of that routine. For example, I'll shower and put on make up, but never end up getting dressed (or get dressed, then get spit up and/or peed on, then give up on the idea of going out). Or I'll get dressed and touch up the makeup I was still wearing when I fell asleep during Bug's 4 A.M. feeding, and vow to "shower later, when I get a chance." (I know, gross!) Or sometimes I never get to do any of the above. There are days when having a few moments of private time in the loo seems like an accomplishment.
The last few days have been particularly rough. Bug got his shots at his 2 month appointment. At first I thought, hey, this is great, he's sleeping a LOT - woo hoo, I'm not going to complain about this! Then Sunday it started. First he started having a meltdown every time I tried to feed him. He'd latch on and get going but then five minutes into it he'd scream and carry on like I was trying to poison him. Thinking maybe my production had dipped, I started trying to put him to breast more frequently to kick things back into high gear. He liked that. He liked that a lot. He liked it so much that he decided that every ninety minutes or so, he'd like to be fed.
That's from the start of one 60 minute feeding/burping/changing session to the next. Which leaves 30 minutes during which he would fall asleep on my lap and doze peacefully. Unless I tried to put him in his crib, bassinet or bouncy seat. Then he'd wake up. And scream. And holler. And look up at me with those big gorgeous bewildered blue eyes: Mommy, how could you leave me like this??
Aarrgh!
It was slightly better at night. He'd sleep about 2-3 hours in between feedings. But we are generally up again by 3 or 4 (it varies). But I checked my feeding log (yes, I keep one, I'm neurotic like that) and for two days straight he started a new feeding session every 2 hours or less on the nose. A couple of them even just merged into one. I believe they call that a cluster feeding. Another name for it crossed my mind. But I promised myself I wouldn't type it here.
Oh yes, it's been a bit hard to be "sanctified" these last few days. Very hard. Can't say I've managed it very well. God is gracious.
For the first time since last Friday, I got out of the house. I left here in the clothes I'd been sleeping in at 7:10 to go to the grocery store. There's a big storm coming tomorrow, they're talking 12+ inches of snow. I figured if I waited too long, everyone and their brother would dash to the store today to buy milk, bread, etc. and it'd be a zoo. Mr. F stayed with Bug. When I got to the store it was just me and the shelf-stockers. Christmas music was playing. Row after row, all the shelves were nice, clean, tidy; orderly. There were no babies there. Hallelujah. The land of milk, honey and spotless floors! But there was no tarrying. I kept glancing at the clock. 7:45. Maybe Bug would sleep another twenty minutes. Maybe Mr. F would only have to placate him for fifteen minutes. Maybe I could get out of there and home by quarter past. Around and around and up and down the aisles I flew.
Back in the car, it's 8:30. The checkout lady was nice, but so slow! Maybe Bug's still sleeping? No way. He must be up by now. He must be wet by now. He must be crying. I grip the steering wheel and hit the gas. An acoustic guitar song's playing on the radio. The sun hovers over the trees, its long slants of white gold tripping through the frozen winter branches, falling on my face as I drive on by. The heady, heavy scent of an orange blossom plant I'd picked up on a whim from the produce section sweetens each inhalation with its perfume. Just a few moments alone. Calm. Quiet. An open road. Sunrise. Gentle light and peace.
Ninety minutes. And I got everything I needed. Everything.
It used to take a half hour to shower, get dressed, put on make up. Now it takes all day, if it happens at all, and usually that's because I decide to forgo some or all of that routine. For example, I'll shower and put on make up, but never end up getting dressed (or get dressed, then get spit up and/or peed on, then give up on the idea of going out). Or I'll get dressed and touch up the makeup I was still wearing when I fell asleep during Bug's 4 A.M. feeding, and vow to "shower later, when I get a chance." (I know, gross!) Or sometimes I never get to do any of the above. There are days when having a few moments of private time in the loo seems like an accomplishment.
The last few days have been particularly rough. Bug got his shots at his 2 month appointment. At first I thought, hey, this is great, he's sleeping a LOT - woo hoo, I'm not going to complain about this! Then Sunday it started. First he started having a meltdown every time I tried to feed him. He'd latch on and get going but then five minutes into it he'd scream and carry on like I was trying to poison him. Thinking maybe my production had dipped, I started trying to put him to breast more frequently to kick things back into high gear. He liked that. He liked that a lot. He liked it so much that he decided that every ninety minutes or so, he'd like to be fed.
That's from the start of one 60 minute feeding/burping/changing session to the next. Which leaves 30 minutes during which he would fall asleep on my lap and doze peacefully. Unless I tried to put him in his crib, bassinet or bouncy seat. Then he'd wake up. And scream. And holler. And look up at me with those big gorgeous bewildered blue eyes: Mommy, how could you leave me like this??
Aarrgh!
It was slightly better at night. He'd sleep about 2-3 hours in between feedings. But we are generally up again by 3 or 4 (it varies). But I checked my feeding log (yes, I keep one, I'm neurotic like that) and for two days straight he started a new feeding session every 2 hours or less on the nose. A couple of them even just merged into one. I believe they call that a cluster feeding. Another name for it crossed my mind. But I promised myself I wouldn't type it here.
Oh yes, it's been a bit hard to be "sanctified" these last few days. Very hard. Can't say I've managed it very well. God is gracious.
For the first time since last Friday, I got out of the house. I left here in the clothes I'd been sleeping in at 7:10 to go to the grocery store. There's a big storm coming tomorrow, they're talking 12+ inches of snow. I figured if I waited too long, everyone and their brother would dash to the store today to buy milk, bread, etc. and it'd be a zoo. Mr. F stayed with Bug. When I got to the store it was just me and the shelf-stockers. Christmas music was playing. Row after row, all the shelves were nice, clean, tidy; orderly. There were no babies there. Hallelujah. The land of milk, honey and spotless floors! But there was no tarrying. I kept glancing at the clock. 7:45. Maybe Bug would sleep another twenty minutes. Maybe Mr. F would only have to placate him for fifteen minutes. Maybe I could get out of there and home by quarter past. Around and around and up and down the aisles I flew.
Back in the car, it's 8:30. The checkout lady was nice, but so slow! Maybe Bug's still sleeping? No way. He must be up by now. He must be wet by now. He must be crying. I grip the steering wheel and hit the gas. An acoustic guitar song's playing on the radio. The sun hovers over the trees, its long slants of white gold tripping through the frozen winter branches, falling on my face as I drive on by. The heady, heavy scent of an orange blossom plant I'd picked up on a whim from the produce section sweetens each inhalation with its perfume. Just a few moments alone. Calm. Quiet. An open road. Sunrise. Gentle light and peace.
Ninety minutes. And I got everything I needed. Everything.
posted by Feeble Knees at
9:21 AM
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