There are days when this is the only possible explanation for the transformation of our normally sweet and well-behaved son. This is one of them.
It starts with a low-grade whine. Almost a hum, especially at mealtimes when he refuses food - any food, even his favorites - after three bites. Lower lip jutting, he whines. Continuously. Gratingly.
Should I take away the untouched, pushed-away, conscientiously-avoided food, it progresses to a much louder, although equally continuous and grating, open-mouthed complaint. Which does not mean that he is willing to eat any of said food. (What happened to our little foodie?)
All this whining brings us to naptime, finally. Or, rather, what used to be naptime but is now a prolonged scream-fest. For eight months, we had a wonderful routine: a cuddle next to the crib, with nuzzles and kisses, a reasonably-long lullaby, and then down. On his belly, with Sheldon tucked under his arm and the Sleep Sheep speaking whale. (Mental note: name the Sleep Sheep Dory.) At worst, he'd complain for five or so minutes, then be soundly and peacefully asleep.
This week? Not so much. Routine followed to the letter, but being put on his belly is now an invitation to push up and crawl. (Putting him on his back hasn't been an option since before Christmas, and should he roll onto his back in the night, he wakes up immediately. Fabulous.) Now? He screams. Full-on, red-faced, open-mouthed screams. For a loooooooong time. (As of right now, it's been 40 minutes.) I go in after five minutes... after ten minutes... after fifteen minutes.... I soothe, thump his back, rub his back, shush him. And he grins at me. And coos. There's nothing at all wrong with him except that he doesn't want to sleep. Nevermind that he's been rubbing his eyes and yawning, he's not really tired. No, Mummy, really - not tired. Not tired at all. Especially not tired after all this screaming. Wide awake, Mummy. Hi! (And yes, I tried getting him up to see if he was hungry, having only eaten a few bites of breakfast. He didn't stop screaming for a second, and spit out the food. So much for that idea, kidlet: back to bed.)
Weeks like this make it bloody lucky for him that he's so cute.
Anyone want to babysit?
Aren't you getting into the 1 nap territory? The one around 11:30, 12:00 after early lunch? In my (limited to one sample) experience, 7-8 months was the time...
ReplyDeleteYes he is the cutest, and it only gets better, I swear (and yes I owe you an email...coming...)
béatrice
Apparently we are indeed heading into the single-nap life. Who knew? He's been doing one in the late morning, and two very short naps in the afternoon - about 30 minutes each.
ReplyDeleteWhat messes with me was that the 10a nap was consistently the best and most needed - he could, if necessary, cope for the rest of the day. Amazing how fast things change, huh?
I think Beatrice may be on right track...altho he may shift back... this may be the teeth, a growth spurt... baby testosterone? Maybe the place to adjust is mealtime? Do teething biscuits still exist? Now that he's interested in self feeding, perhaps he could snack a bit... eat a real meal a bit later... and perhaps be ready for nap? I'm not sure he's really ready for only one nap a day...but I'd put money on him not needing three!
ReplyDeleteSiiigh - it could be any of those things. Mealtime is fairly adjustable - approximately every three hours, or when he lets me know he's hungry. Unfortunately, he's not ready for teething biscuits yet - he doesn't get chewing, even really gumming, and he chokes. (And self-feeding is hit-or-miss, usually only done when incredibly inconvenient to me - no bib, not at home, etc.)
ReplyDeleteHe did suffice on one big 1pm nap and a 20-minute doze in the car today... and actually stayed up later than usual. Go fig. Seems more like a developmental spurt than a "growth" spurt per se.
Baby cuteness is nature's self defense mechanism, cuz sometimes it's the only thing that keeps you from killing 'em. :)
ReplyDeleteStick with it!!