Last night didn’t go well.
Nights usually don’t, for whatever reason. (If anyone has any tips, please feel free to let me know.)
He was up at 1:30 (so, he slept five hours—which isn’t bad, but certainly isn’t good, since he has nights where he sleeps seven). He ate pretty well, burped, and seemed out. I laid in him the crib and—yep—he’s up and wriggly and fussy. I thought I would let him fuss for a bit to see if he would fall asleep on his own, so I went back to bed and watched the monitor every few minutes…yellow is okay, orange is worse, and red is bad (level of noise). It was still orange-to-red after five minutes, so back in I went and fed him the dregs of his bottle (sometimes enough to put him out).
But it wasn’t enough, and he was still kinda fussy. I made sure to get all the burps out, and just put him down again. And left him. It was hard, but I did it. After about 20 minutes of fussing, he was out.
So it took an hour and a half. Ugh.
And then he was up bright and early at 6am. And trying to feed him? Sometimes we get mornings that aren’t fun, and this is one of them. Spitting and sputtering and milk dribbling out all over. (And I know it’s not the new nipple, since he ate perfectly fine from it yesterday and before bed.) Unexpected burps and spit ups—I think he lost half the five ounces I put in him…and he won’t sit still and doesn’t want any more food and doesn’t want to nap.
I am downstairs now and he’s been shrieking upstairs for a few minutes…so I guess I’d better go check on him.
I have a feeling today is going to be a looooooong day.
—time lapse—
Well, he knows how to get what he wants, LOL. As soon as I walked in the room and he saw me, he stopped shrieking and smiled and cooed at me. The little bugger. Then I fed him the last bit of his earlier bottle, and he fell asleep in my arms and didn’t even wake up when I transferred him to the swing. Stinker. So, apparently he just needed to see me and eat one more ounce?
Hoo boy.