All right, all right, maybe I got a little ahead of myself. Monday, at work, I was bragging about how Jude and I had this "schedule" thing all figured out. John Patrick had slept until 5 a.m. two nights in a row (Saturday and Sunday) and as near as I could figure, there was no reason to expect he wouldn't continue to do so in the future. Although the "Babywise" book says that babies have the ability to sleep through the night at 10 to 12 weeks of age, John Patrick was obviously ahead of schedule, sleeping through the night at 7 1/2 weeks of age, or so I told my staff at work.
As I was bragging Monday morning, I could hear my legal assistant and good friend, Deb Safar, laughing uproariously from her desk outside my office. Deb has raised three high school aged children, and is one of the most together, coolest mothers I know. Clearly, she knew something that I didn't.
Which, of course, brings us to Monday night. And Tuesday night. And, in all likelihood, tonight. Monday night or, actually Tuesday morning, about 3 a.m., I awoke to the sounds of extremely loud, guttural noises (grunts, groans, etc.) emanating from the Pack-n-Play next to our bed. I tried, and failed, to go back to sleep, but the noises were too loud. After 15 minutes or so, I rolled over, looked at Jude, who was also awake, and suggested she might need to feed him.
"What about the schedule?" she said. "I want him to sleep until 5 a.m.," she said. My response was, of course, "I want to sleep now! Feed him. Please feed him." And she did.
Last night, same song, different verse. John Patrick woke up at 3 a.m. or so, the noises started and we didn't even fight it. Jude fed him, then he went back to sleep.
It's always an adventure, every night.
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