a sippy he could turn to
The doing away with the nighttime bottles has gone okay, complicated mainly by six to eight large new teeth making a simultaneous entrance, along with a rotten cold from our little friends down at the play group. For our part, the end of Daylight Savings made things a little groggier than they might have been otherwise.
Actually going to sleep without the bottle wasn't a problem for more than a couple of days. It's the 3 a.m. inconsolable screaming that has been hardest.
These have been full-on frantic screaming fits that there's no way he could get out of himself (or that we could possibly sleep through), the kind that take several minutes of lights and talk just to bring him out of and around to the fact that he's alive and we're the parents he knows and everything might eventually be okay. After a couple of days we figured out that these were most likely about, or majorly aggravated by, the several new canines and premolars fighting their way through his gums. On top of that were the rivers of snot making a raspy mouth breather out of him. Not a recipe for restful nights for anyone in the house, even before you knock everything off by an hour.
For a few nights we were up every hour or so after about 2 in the morning. Without something heavy duty to chew on there wasn't much he could do about it, and without something nice to suck on there wasn't much he could do to relax his way through it, either. After a few days we settled on keeping a couple of sippies of water loaded and ready in the fridge, for triple duty as liquid source and cool and soothing chew toy. Once the worst of the teething (plus cold) was over, we were able to just do the old stumble-plug once again, and after he's all better we're going to ease that out, too.
For the 5ish a.m. bottle of milk that was as much for our benefit as his (so that he doesn't wake up then from sheer hunger), we just switched the milk to a leakproof sippy with a soft spout that most closely approximates a nipple. We tried water, but that was apparently a step too far. So, cold cow's milk from a cold oval plastic spout--at this point how many levels removed are we from real human milk from real human boob? I wish this child would see that this faux-front strip mall version of nursing isn't anywhere near worth all the drama. Most importantly, if only for fans of semantic gymnastics, the bottles are definitively out of the routine.
Notice all this vagueness about the number of days things went on? That's the end of Daylight Savings talking, which, along with the multiple, business-filled wakings/rockings/singings, has done plenty to remind us of the utter blear and sleep-deprived stumble-parenting coming our way next month when the new boy arrives.
These have been full-on frantic screaming fits that there's no way he could get out of himself (or that we could possibly sleep through), the kind that take several minutes of lights and talk just to bring him out of and around to the fact that he's alive and we're the parents he knows and everything might eventually be okay. After a couple of days we figured out that these were most likely about, or majorly aggravated by, the several new canines and premolars fighting their way through his gums. On top of that were the rivers of snot making a raspy mouth breather out of him. Not a recipe for restful nights for anyone in the house, even before you knock everything off by an hour.
For a few nights we were up every hour or so after about 2 in the morning. Without something heavy duty to chew on there wasn't much he could do about it, and without something nice to suck on there wasn't much he could do to relax his way through it, either. After a few days we settled on keeping a couple of sippies of water loaded and ready in the fridge, for triple duty as liquid source and cool and soothing chew toy. Once the worst of the teething (plus cold) was over, we were able to just do the old stumble-plug once again, and after he's all better we're going to ease that out, too.
For the 5ish a.m. bottle of milk that was as much for our benefit as his (so that he doesn't wake up then from sheer hunger), we just switched the milk to a leakproof sippy with a soft spout that most closely approximates a nipple. We tried water, but that was apparently a step too far. So, cold cow's milk from a cold oval plastic spout--at this point how many levels removed are we from real human milk from real human boob? I wish this child would see that this faux-front strip mall version of nursing isn't anywhere near worth all the drama. Most importantly, if only for fans of semantic gymnastics, the bottles are definitively out of the routine.
Notice all this vagueness about the number of days things went on? That's the end of Daylight Savings talking, which, along with the multiple, business-filled wakings/rockings/singings, has done plenty to remind us of the utter blear and sleep-deprived stumble-parenting coming our way next month when the new boy arrives.
Comments
Post a Comment