Week Eight: Feeling Triumphant

When did my three year old get so tall?

There's a baby hidden inside that black fabric. With a blanket draped over her for good measure.

Well, at least I was feeling triumphant at the end of last week. I'm a little more battered by the end of the weekend.

This was the week I feel like I got my life back. The night that Amelie turned seven weeks, she made a huge transition in her sleep patterns and is mostly only waking up once during the night. Well, she's only feeding once during the night. She wakes up a bunch of other times but will go back to sleep if I stick the pacifier back in her mouth. Luckily she's sleeping in a RNP which is pulled up right next to my bed. So I only have to wake up for a moment. So it's not the highest quality sleep, perhaps, but it sure beats getting all the way up.

It seemed like, after getting Amelie on a three hour feeding schedule, she was naturally transitioning herself to a four hour feeding schedule. She was (is) taking much longer, deeper naps. Which is great. Not only because it allows me time to get things done but also, I'm a huge believer in the power of sleep. And that so many children aren't getting enough high quality sleep. So I feel like I'm doing a good job as a parent when she sleeps a lot. Whether justified or not. Mostly she's awake for 45-60 minutes then sleeps for three hours, though the sleep is usually broken up by brief wakings to look for the pacifier. Occasionally she even gets up for 10-15 minutes then goes back to sleep.

But these last couple of days, she's been eating more often again. So I'm trying to just go with it, and trust that she will lengthen out again when she's ready. I'm guessing she's not quite ten pounds yet -- I will find out on Tuesday at her two month well baby visit -- so maybe she's just not quite ready yet.

She also seems much easier, overall. She nearly always puts herself to sleep now. She's suddenly able, just these last two days, to sleep long stretches in the Baby K'Tan -- she will even let me sit down and eat a meal while she sleeps against me. Honestly, she rarely cries. Well, when I'm nursing her and she starts bobbing on and off midway through, I take her off to burp her and then she bursts into the funniest little rage filled cries -- they make me laugh every time. Luckily they only last a few seconds.

In the meantime, this was the week I seized control of my life again. I spent most of the week inside, hammering away at my to do list. Although it was nothing like fun, I feel so relieved to be (mostly) caught again. I was really stressed before, which contributed to my feelings of sadness the previous week, I think -- life just felt so overwhelming. And I'm hoping to be able to do more fun maternity leave adventures now that I'm mostly caught up.

Amelie is getting cuter (and heavier!) by the day, and I'm definitely smitten now.

Calliope is also doing great. I've seen a lot less refusing to cooperate (mainly in the form of running and hiding and acting silly), which is a great relief. Like me, she's smitten with Amelie. Last night, I went out for the first time without either kid, so I asked Calliope to help Amelie be brave. Calliope dutifully held Amelie's hand while meeting the babysitter.

And tonight the girls took their first bath together -- a big thrill for all concerned.

Calliope has become quite the storyteller. Often they are nonsensical and follow no plot line. But tonight she was telling me about her (imaginary) somersault class. Which is on Ocean Parkway. She takes the F train to get there. Her teacher's name is Nuba, and she has friends, Nuka and Nuga and especially, Nakasha. Nakasha is three, just like Calliope. Or maybe four.

Yesterday we ran into our neighbor, Leslie. Leslie is a grandfather to several young children, and he's always warm and friendly to us. As we said goodbye to him and unlocked our apartment door, Calliope remarked, "I love him. If he wasn't our family (???), we could marry him." I didn't mention that his wife might have a problem with that, just agreed.

Next weekend is the unveiling of my mother's gravestone. After much debating, I've decided to bring Calliope alone. She still talks about my mom a lot, and is fascinated by death. When I described the unveiling to her, she asked, "And then will Grammy be undead?"

We also went to Coney Island again.

And we we went to see my wonderful midwife, Chris, again. I felt entirely different this week versus last -- positive and upbeat and energetic. And she was lovely and welcoming. I'm so glad we were able to go back. She told me I could keep in touch and "once your midwife, always your midwife" and I would, truly, love to continue to have some kind of relationship with her but I have no idea what that would look like. I think I would always be afraid of imposing and asking for too much, somehow. Any ideas?

Communicating with her home planet

Being eight weeks old is exhausting.