Strange Machines

It’s been a wonderful day playing with Jack! He discovered the joy of rhythmically banging on the chair cushion to make music. I cheerily joined him hitting a pen on the cotton bud container, and then the hubby joined in hitting the table. It was some rap-tribal music bash we had there.

Later, as he watched me from the corner of his eye, I hid Humpty in his Dad’s side cupboard and then asked him, “Where’s Humpty, Jack?” He sat there for a while and without hesitation moved to the cupboard and opened it.

I did a little jig and then went to animate Humpty to thank him for finding her. He grabbed Humpty, kissed on her mouth several times and then put her one side but kept checking on her to make sure she was okay.

Yesterday Jack had a deep discussion with his Dad, who pointed out to me how he was sticking out his tongue more and trying to form words. We even heard him say “Jack” at one point!

True enough, at 5am, we were both awakened by Jack talking to himself in a long sort of discourse. He seemed to be trying out sounds like ‘ll’ and alternately sucking his own fist. We let him go on till his sounds began turning slightly anguished and then we picked him up for a feed.

This morning he continued with his sticking-out-tongue routine and talked to himself some more.

I played his favourite TaTu CD and he was delighted to do a dance-along.

We took Jack to Borders last night after a lovely Macs dinner. I managed to get a copy of The Selfish Gene - they’d brought in new stock. The poor boy was so hot that we took him out of his Bjorn and carried him. I fed him in the breastfeeding room at Wheelock and after seeing the dismal one at Great World, I have to say two thumbs up.

The sweetie fed at 10pm and again at 11pm. Slept at midnight and woke at 4.28am, 7am and 945am. He woke up so happy after the final feed he was smiling and laughing when I held him and talked to him. His Dad played Les Miserables for him and he loved it. What a happy baby he is.

Okay, the title reeks of a Jerry Springer-type story but last night while I was going comatose and frankly suffering brain damage from severe sleep deprivation, the Hubman came to the rescue.

I explained to him how I finally understood one weary Mom’s ponderance on how hair could possibly hurt and it was not because I pulled out a whole tuft while removing the koyok from my neck.

So at 9pm I went to bed, a few hairs short, and 2 panadols in me. Baby fussed and cried till 11pm (aka I got no sleep till then although I was prone), and I fed him one last time and was out like a light when kind Hub brought him outside.

I was woken up by Jack’s fussing. Ran to the loo before it escalated into crying. Checked the clock - it was 509am! Quickly wore the MBF pillow and picked him up to feed. While feeding, I counted the hours (remember: brain function still slow). OMG… I slept 5 hours straight. It was a record since I gave birth.

Using the Compression Technique to make your baby feed more at night while dozing on boob (guarantees you a longer sleep), I finished feeding him on one side, changed his diaper, and then fed again on the other. When he was done, I sat him up for a while (to let the milk go down), and then tucked him back to bed. I think there was a spontaneous burp there when he sat up but I couldn’t recall if it was this feed or the next. Anyhoo.

At 8.30am he woke again and during the feed, smiled and laughed at me. It was so delightful! He went back to bed and woke again at 1050am. I dressed him in his favourite (okay, my favourite) Creysi romper and now he’s sitting up talking to his blue turtle friend and listening to Vivaldi.

I have bad knees. That’s a fact. But my finger? Well, all three gave out yesterday and had to be stuck with white stickies of koyok. I can just about hobble now but stairs still pain me and my ring finger still refuses to take any weight on it.

Last night I managed to watch Lost while carrying Jack in a sling. I remembered a Mom writing about it and decided to try it for myself. Gosh! It worked! He slept like a baby (excuse the pun). Of course I paid for it later when he refused to be stirred to be fed.

I gave up at 1230am although he did seem to feed a bit. He woke again at 2.30am and drank a little. Another feeding at 430am, and then I made a dreadful mistake. My achy finger and knees decided for me. I left him beside me to sleep.

From then till noon, he dozed and woke, cried. Fed a little (2-5 minutes!) and dozed again. Just when I started dreaming (and strange dreams they were - product of a strange machine - okay corny joke, back to topic), he’d cry and I got up to see what was wrong.

Two diaper changes, multiple feeds, and numerous attempted burpings later, he still fussed. Around 1230pm, I staggered out of bed during a moment of quiet after Diaper Change 2, turned on Mozart, and he stayed quiet, gurgling to himself while he stared at something on the wall.

Weary as hell, I washed up, fed the kids who had just about broken the door down in hunger, did the laundry, and sat him in a stroller so I could use the computer. Mom came to the rescue soon after. A nap sounds good right about now.