Wednesday, August 12, 2009


(large, wet farting sound)
TREV: Oh. Excuse me.
WORKING: Ha! I thought it was the baby!
TREV: Cool. I'm just going to blame it on him from now on.
WORKING: That's good. Because I never believed it was the dog before.

* * *

So my Reflexologist has a way of tuning me into a better reality. My mood has been steadily improving since seeing him weekly. The hormones seem to be stabilizing, and while I'm tired, I'm definitely coping better.

I had a weird night of burning, overful breasts and a puking, shitting dog. But the baby actually slept quite well. So this morning I woke up with Reflexologist's advice in my head; maybe it's time to enjoy this experience with little Mac before I miss it. Trevor and I are aware this could be our only child, so we better slow down and smell the roses. Or baby poop, as the case may be. And he's a cute little kid, changing every day.

We also cut a deal to help us cope better: Trevor gets a good night's sleep in the guest room while I take the entire shift with the baby (and apparently, the dog). Then, refreshed and rested, he takes over in the morning and I catch a few hours of blissful sleep alone, bed to myself, snoring to the hum of the air conditioner, before the next feeding. And I get another nap opportunity later in the day.

It works because 1. there's no need for both of us to be up at the same time at night, and I'm still breastfeeding exclusively and 2. while I can nap at the drop of a hat, and it's always a solid, restorative nap, Trev can't. He can only sleep at night. There's just no point to us both being exhausted during the day.

Besides, those couple of hours alone are more precious than gold to me right now, and the baby seems happier. Probably because I'm happier. This will only last until Trev goes back to work, but it will buy us some recuperation in the meantime. Dare I say that I'm almost... happy... right now?

(knock on wood)

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Blogger Momma Pants ~ 7:10 PM

Whoohoo! Your sleep plan is genius.  

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