I guess it should be expected… but then again, I thought once he was sleepy or napping in my arms (or on me) I could move him to the crib or swing and be able to get stuff done around the house.
NOT.
He will be perfectly content—sleeping and snoring away, limp as a rag doll—so I will get up and place him in the pack and play or the swing… and I literally have less than two minutes before he’s SCREAMING bloody murder. On a bad day, it’s less than 10 seconds. On a great day, it might be 20 minutes. But more often than not, it’s two minutes or less.
Don’t get me wrong, I looooooooooove holding my baby, but I also hoped to be able to get something done during the day. (As I’m writing this, he is laying next to me, screaming at the top of his lungs. He is fed, burped, and has a freshly filled-and-changed diaper, so nothing is wrong other than he wants to be held.)
And at this point I’m not asking for time to scrub the kitchen floors or organize my closet—we’re just talking something as simple as going to the bathroom or refilling my water or grabbing three bites of food for lunch…or writing a quick blog entry. 😉
I try to let him cry, but it just kills me to hear it…so I don’t last too long.