I’m getting freaked out about how fast time is going. First of all: December? Really? Really, and truly, it’s the end of the year?
And Vincent–he’ll be 9 months tomorrow. Three quarters through his first year of life on this earth. After that, he’ll no longer be my baby; he’ll be a toddler.
And he’s all about it. He has no interest in staying behind in Baby Land, doing nothing but crawling as fast as his little arms and legs will carry him to the nearest coffee or end table (or DEATH TRAPS, as I call them) to pull up, to look for something to grab at, preferably with buttons like the remote (typical boy) and put into his mouth. Occasionally, he’ll let go and stand or he’ll cruise along the furniture. He’ll sometimes make his way to the stairs or the kitchen, always with one of us right behind him to make sure he’s safe but still–we want him to be able to explore.
But, man, this mobility thing wears me out. I knew it would. I dreaded it with all my nieces and nephews, and when I had Vincent, I dreaded the day he would become mobile. Because they’re freakin’ clumsy at first. Example: I’m always RIGHT behind Vincent when he pulls up because he’s still clumsy and will fall. However, I’ve gotten more relaxed about crawling and sitting–he’s proven to be a pro at those things. AND YET. And yet, four times in the last couple of days, Vincent has managed to land on his face while on all fours. Once, I had held out my hands low to the ground, expecting that he would crawl up to me and place one hand and then another into mine, and then I would pick him up. We do this all the time. Instead, he FACE PLANTS right into the floor. I guess he expected to just fall into my hands…?! I don’t know why he suddenly thought the rules had changed. I’m baffled, and now my kid has a NASTY bruise on one side of his head.
Oh, that’s the other thing: He constantly falls on the same side of his head! I joked that he must have a weight in there or something to always topple that way, but for real, I feel awful looking at his poor, little head.
The other thing about mobile babies is that they’re into everything, and I wouldn’t say we have the most baby-friendly house in the world. For one, Jim’s biggest hobby is painting Warhammer figurines, which are nice and shiny and interesting enough to a baby to want to instantly try to eat and probably choke on. Jim keeps that shit in the living room, no matter how much I nag at him to put it somewhere else, so part of chasing Vincent is chasing him away from the stacks of Warhammer boxes that Jim has cluttering up the place.
Anyway. In three months, I will have a toddler, and all I can think is that Vincent wakes up more than ever. At his last doctor appointment, his pediatrician made it sound like 1) he shouldn’t be nursing at night, and 2) he should be mostly sleeping through the night. Everything I’ve read says that’s pretty unlikely. Although she said we could drop the night nursings, at the time, Vincent was only waking up twice a night. Jim and I agree that we were okay with this and we were okay with night nursing. Vincent is only in something like the 15th percentile in weight. As far as we were concerned, he could eat whenever he wanted.
Now, though, I would KILL for him to only wake up twice a night. Now, five or six times is standard. It’s usually every hour or two. Sometimes, he has “cluster wakings,” where he wakes up, we get him to sleep, only for him to wake right back up. He’ll do it three or four times in a row before going back to sleep.
Those are really bad nights. And, of course, I’m at work at 6 AM after those nights, sometimes doing overtime as well. Not that it was ever easy, but at least when it was just my regular job doing inventory, I could take a moment to collect my thoughts. It’s much harder now that we keep getting put on the hotline. You have someone who wants answers talking in your ear and you’re just struggling to keep up.
This weekend, though, was pretty hard. Our large fan–our noisy fan–broke. All three of us are used to both the white noise and the fan’s ability to keep the room from getting stuffy. Vincent barely slept last night. He made up for it this morning by sleeping in until 9:15 (!), but then he wouldn’t take any of his naps. Seriously, he should be getting something like 2-3 hours of naps in a day; today he got 35 minutes. Needless to say, it was a hard day.
Thank god that happened over the weekend and not a week night!
Of course, though, it happened when 1) we are SO broke right now, and 2) a big snow storm hit, making it difficult to get around. Luckily, the roads are somewhat plowed (Jim later said he was glad that I refused to let him take Vincent with him, though, so the roads still aren’t that great), and Jim’s dad had an extra fan. Not as loud as our previous one, but it will do.
Vincent’s been asleep for three hours now. Granted, he woke up once, but it was brief. I’ll take it.