June 2018 was a glorious month in many ways. I hope I’ll always remember it – as the month when Ted enjoyed his first trips to the seaside; when we spent a gorgeous afternoon in the sun watching the Bootleg Beatles; when Ted became steadier still on his feet. The month when we booked a family holiday for September and looked forward to a mini-break at Centre Parcs. A month of sunshine and happiness.
I might also remember it as the month of yet ANOTHER sleep regression and as the time that Old McDonald Had A Farm (the 2018 remix) finally sent me loopy.
I know I say it every month but god this little boy is a delight. Of course, it is easy to think that as I type at 4pm on a Monday afternoon after a decent-ish sleep. It is not as easy to think that at 4.45am when he has woken for a feed, his third of the night. GAH TED YOU ARE 13 MONTHS OLD NOT 13 DAYS GODDARNIT.
I’ll try and keep this update short – by my standards at least – because my brain is a bit frazzled. As mentioned above, the whole sleep situation totally went to pot again last month. There’s been a slight improvement in the last few nights, although we did have a 3x-wake-ups treat sandwiched between a couple of decent nights.
I’ve banged on about it enough before already, but bloody hell the sleep deprivation is HARD. Of course, I am not talking newborn territory, up every 40 minutes or so, it is not THAT bad.
But when he wakes twice a night – or three times, shudder – it usually means I have less than four hours sleep at any one time before I am woken from my deep, deep slumber. Those not-quite-long-enough stretches make me feel groggy and grumpy and are ruining my dental work.
I’m not imagining that last point. On numerous occasions, I have found myself clenching my teeth in frustration when I go in to see to Ted and he won’t settle without a feed. I have also shouted obscenities through gritted teeth at Graham at 3am – when he’s mumbled ‘what’s up with him now?’ I DON’T KNOW WHY DON’T YOU ASK HIM? or we’re about to cave after a half-hearted cry it out attempt. And now when I look at my bottom teeth, I can see where a couple of them are going back to their old, pre-Invisalign wonky positions as a result of my clenching habit. Great.
So yes, Ted’s still not sleeping well and he’s still feeding a lot and I’m sure the two are connected but I can’t bring myself to take any drastic action at the moment. I wonder if it will sort itself out or if he’ll still be feeding when he’s 10, Little Britain style? I will have been committed to a home by then I imagine, wonky teeth and all.
When he only wakes up once a night, I can handle it, of course, and it’s beautiful – I look down at his sleeping little face in the darkness after he’s pulled away from me, and I kiss him and I think how precious he is, and how precious the moment is, and how grateful I am.
But when it’s the second or third time of the night, and I’ve reluctantly scooped him out of his cot through gritted teeth because I know he’ll cry and cry and cry without a feed, it is not so beautiful. Especially if he starts nipping me while he’s feeding. He sometimes does this when he’s half-asleep; I can feel his little nails pinching me around my neck and décolletage – has there ever been a time when that sexy, ooh-la-la word has sounded less out of place? – and I imagine it feels like one of those Silkepil epilator things. Except I haven’t got a hairy décolletage, so put your epilator fingers away please Ted.
Anyway, where was I? I don’t think there have been any major milestones to report since the last update, although again this might be because my brain is so fried from sleep deprivation that it’s relegated this information to the back of my mind in order for me to still be able to recall my name and where I parked the car.
(I’ve had to put two photos in this update – mainly because he looks about 5 years old in the top one, SOB, while the second one cracks me up for the nutty professor sticking-out barnet, and that grin.)
Ted isn’t walking yet but can stand unaided. He is still crawling at top speed so I think he’s just happy with that for now. I’m sure if he could talk he’d be all ‘what’s the rush, fellas?’ Or ‘what’s-a the rush-a? Waah!’ For the last month or so, he’s been doing a strange flicking thing with his hand against his mouth, making a sound a bit like ‘waaah!’. As if he is doing what the Italians do, where they put their fingertips to their lips and make a kissing noise, ‘bellissimo’. So we like to joke that he has an Italian accent like-a what-a mamma used-a to make-a etc etc. I probably haven’t described this very well, but I want to remember these oddities and idiosyncrasies because they make my heart sing. Even after a night of having my décolletage epilated.
His other little trick which he started doing a while ago but does all the time, currently, is sucking in his cheeks and moving his lips, making a kissing sound. I’m not sure where he’s got this from. I like to think it’s his attempt at blowing kisses at us. Oh Teddy.
The boy is a genius – as we’ve established in previous updates – and this month it became apparent that he DEFINITELY now understands me when I talk to him. Sometimes. Maybe. A case in point: a few times, when he’s been having his breakfast, our poor neglected cat has hopped onto the windowsill outside, directly behind Ted’s highchair. I’ve said to Ted “what’s that silly cat doing?” and Ted spins round to see what the silly cat (sorry Mow) is indeed doing. See? Genius.
In other genius behaviour, he’s also learned how to press the buttons on his musical nursery rhyme books. His favourite is Old McDonald. When he presses the button, the song starts, and then if he KEEPS pressing the button, the song starts from the beginning AGAIN. And again. And again. Hence Old McD the 2018 remix potentially being the death of me. “Old McDonald Had a Farm, e-i-e-i….Old McDonald Had a….Old McDonald Had a…Old McDonald Had…..Old McDonald Had….Old McDona…. Old McDon’ etc etc etc repeat x20. It’s catchy, I’ll give it that.
Bye for now x