…and I still had a lot more to say.
It’s easy to slip into routines. For a day or two you might not notice the change, or think she’s simply having a rough day, but then after a week it’s just the new normal.
My new normal was being tethered to Baby Chickadee. The sweet baby who once happily played by herself would now cry each time I was out of her eyesight. The only way to keep her happy was to sit on the floor with her while she played. All day long. That meant dishes stacked up in the sink and dirty laundry sat untouched in the basement. For a day or two I thought she might be teething or going through separation anxiety, and then after a few weeks I forgot that it could be any different.
Through all this I was desperately tired. I could barely pull myself out of bed in the morning to get the kids off to school. If I sat down to feed the baby a bottle I fell asleep in the short time it took her to drink six ounces. And if I had to lay down next to her to get her to sleep for her afternoon nap? I was out for a solid hour. I was going to bed at night at 11 and getting out of bed in the morning at 7, close to the recommended eight hours of sleep per night, so why was I so stinking tired?
Because Baby Chickadee woke every two hours. As an eight-month-old. I didn’t realize this was happening until I forced myself to look at the clock each time I went in to her room or woke to feed her. Then I’d wake again as Hubby left for work around 5, then again as the big kids stirred at 6:30.
I finally realized that maybe Baby Chickadee was so needy because she was incredibly tired as well. Waking up every two hours at night is no good for anybody but a teensy newborn baby. So for my sanity and hers I started making her cry it out. And we’re all doing much better.