3:43am - At Wits End

I've heard the phrase 'at wits end' several times. While I've been stressed at many time in my life, I never knew exactly what it meant... or, rather, when it happens. The answer, I've discovered, is 3:43am.

Our little buddy has been in a mood this weekend. He also seems to have taken a conscious dislike to his provided sleeping accommodations. While we're still engaged in the battle of wills in terms of schedules, last night I put him down around 10:15pm and I went to bed about an hour later. At 1:30, the wailing began. It being the weekend and wanting my lovely wife to get as much sleep as possible, I got up to tend to smidget's needs. Optimistically, I thought we'd feed, I'd watch a recorded episode of The West Wing, and perhaps within an hour I'd be blissfully back in bed.

Not so.

After an hour, and Little Z slumbering in my arm (which had fallen asleep quite some time earlier) I figured the time was ripe and up we went. As gently as I could, I lowered him into his crib. As soon as his head touched the mattress and I let go, he went from 0 to 100 in a split second. No amount of consoling or musical mobiles would settle him... Until, grumbling, I bring him back downstairs, put the bottle in his mouth, and he promptly falls asleep.

This went on, as a groundhog-day cycle, for 2.5hours. At 3:43am, after striving to calm our troubled little hero by rocking in the chair... I recalled the teacher of our pre-natal class saying "at times, you will feel an uncontrollable urge to shake your baby". I remember thinking at the time "well gee, that seems harsh". I now know that feeling. Now don't get me wrong, I love this little bundle of wails more than anything... but at 3:43am when he's clearly trying to piss me off, that urge passes through you.

15 minutes later, my wife came to rescue me. Fortunately, by this point, she'd had 5 or 6 hours of much-needed sleep. She found me, at 4:03am, 20 minutes into wits end.

Rock-a-bye what?

After yet another late night on daddy-watch, I've become acutely aware that I don't know the words to any soft songs or lullabyes. Little Z will wail away and then at times turn his head slightly to say "ok, whaddya got?" and usually what comes to mind is whatever the last tv commercial jingle was on. My latest go-to song as well has been the theme from Cheers.

I likely know the first verse of a few songs... like this 'rockabye baby' little diddy. So, I just google'd it and apparently there's just 4 lines, which can't be too hard. However, have you ever actually read or listened to the words?? You're humming right along, wind blowing, cradle rocking etc etc... and then suddenly something called a 'bough' is breaking and cradles are falling everywhere! "Down will come baby, cradle and all"???? What the hell?? This is a soothing song for a child? I could imagine, when Zachary understands words, that if I said that, he'd look at me in extreme alarm and then be afraid to sleep in his crib.

I have a vague memory from my own childhood of some nursery rhyme which seemed benign at the time but now frightens the living piss out of me. The 'now I lay me down to sleep...' one. Again, another of these 4-line jobs which starts out nice "I pray the lord to my soul to keep" and then jumps right to "If I should die before I wake..." Isn't that nice and comforting? Yup, I definitely want to get right to sleep now!

All of this leaves me, so far, with very little fodder to entertain my little guy with without scaring the bejeesus out of him or me. He's not quite interactive yet, makes eye contact more now but that's about it so actual words aren't a big issue for understanding yet. I've made up lyrics to a few things now, mostly turns on the phrase "I don't know the words but please be quiet".

So for now... you wanna go where people know, people are all the same, you wanna go where everybody knows your name...

Chaos Theory

I'll freely admit it... any complaints I make about lack of sleep does not compare to what my wife is going through. While I could, if I wanted to, complain about how fussy little Z is when I'm watching him, or that he won't settle, or keeps me up late... I'm not the one who is with him at 4am or 6am or on a weekday, anything involving "a.m". This is why I try to keep my mouth shut (which I haven't perfected) at whatever resultant mood or behaviour stems from his activities during the day may bring.

The learn-as-you-go reactionary approach is fun at times... really perplexing at others. For example, my little guy had a 'hygenic male procedure' last week as it seems the right thing to do these days. He was given something called Tempra beforehand to dull any pain. Afterwards, we were told to give him some every 4-6 hours "as needed".

Here's the funny thing about saying "as needed" to new parents. How the hell are we supposed to know?? When he cries, we're sorting through a multitude of things it could be from basic hunger, gas (a big one), diaper change, diaper rash, dissatisfaction with the service he's receiving.. it could be anything! He was ok the first day, but then was very fussy all-day long for the next couple. We thought it was gas and a rash. We probably should've been giving the Tempra some more. It lead to the realization of a common male axiom... If you get a knife to the bells & whistles (particularly the bell), it'll hurt for a while.

Yesterday we sampled a living example of chaos theory, otherwise known as a family dinner at the in-laws with all their grandchildren (current) involved. A month ago, my in-laws had two grandchildren... now 2 and 1. Now... they have 4 (Little Z being number 3) and number 5 will join the clan in just over a month or so. This was really my first experience with multiple small children, one of which I was responsible for. There's shrieking, yelling, things going 'bang', adults suddenly saying "No!".. and then everyone was in the door. I tip my hat to them, they're brave people hosting a family dinner where chaos is inevitable.

We also travel with more 'stuff' now in our attempts to make the little guy peaceful. Still love the bouncy chair, it's a lifesaver. I thought my Santa Fe was a decent size... a pick-up truck or cube truck seems more realistic.

I have no clue how single parents do this. I'm having trouble envisioning more than one child and managing, but apparently it's done.

When experiencing chaos, at times it's difficult to remember the positives... but then he falls asleep on you (literally) and you realize that the peaceful sounds of silence (and that he's capable of it) is the positive.. and the new goal in life.

Just when you think you've got it...

I'm learning that 'routine' these days merely rhymes with 'poutine'. To a wailing child, remembering that yesterday, we ate and went to sleep around 11:30p, wasn't even a faint memory.

A few people have told me that the first 6 weeks are hell and then it settles down. Others still establish that 18 year mark as the next time I can expect peace. I hope reality (not the one Brian Mulroney seems to be living in) is somewhere in between. The first week at home, Julie would go to sleep around 8pm and I'd mind the little smidget until midnight when she'd get up to do the next feeding. We've tried to re-inforce that with my return to work last week. This turned out to be his absolute fussiest time of the day and no amount of consoling would work for any length of time. Swinging him in his car seat was the only thing that would buy me a few minutes of peace. This is hard on the arm. We then discovered, through his weigh-in's, that he likely wasn't getting enough food so we started supplementing him with formula. Then a switch happened... I'd take over for the evening, and he'd peacefully slumber the whole time.

But as I've discovered, just when you think a routine is in place... the crafty little devil will change it up. For the past couple of nights, he's been wide-awake the whole evening again. Two days ago, I got the "your baby is crying, when are you coming home?" phone call on my cell. As soon as I got home, he was in his bouncy chair and slumbering peacefully. He stirred, started to cry, I picked him up, he fell asleep on my chest. Wife goes grumbling off to bed.

Yesterday, we took him to a doctor for 'the man procedure'. Believe me, I think it hurt me more than it hurt him. Seems better for hygiene anyway... I could comment on 'it looks cleaner' or something, but that just seems weird. I'm just glad we did this while he can't talk or won't remember.

The Meaning of Life - Part III

Part III - After the Birth

Living in a (being generous) 10x10 hospital room isn't a fun thing to do... but even worse for Julie as she couldn't leave, or get out of bed much for the first couple of days.

The first night wasn't a lot of fun for us new parents. Here we are, in this room with this 8lb (1/2 ounce) baby that we'd been given no training for. I mean, honestly, they give you a manual the size of a toaster for, well, a toaster... but for a baby? Here's a couple of pamphlets and we'll be along to check on you. But Julie in bed, not able to move much, and me in my ever-so-comfy sleeper chair (see previous post) roughly 3 feet away from new Zachary. Any sound he made would get both of us up. Which cry is that? Does he need changed? How the hell do I do that?

Fortunately he was accomodating. As were the phenomenal nurses at the Ottawa General Hospital. I can't say enough good things about how great and supportive they all were.

I have new appreciation for my mother-in-law as well. I would do the overnight stay with Julie & Zachary and she'd arrive at around 9am to take over and let me go home to sleep for a few hours. My parents as well, thrilled beyond belief at being grandparents, would do the afternoon shift. Then I'd come back, with 'real food' for dinner instead of the hospital-provided food they brought Julie. Geez... it's like they want to keep people sick so they have something to do...

Somehow we survived though, learning to feed and swaddle... although I completely failed swaddling... no matter how many nurses tried to teach me. He'd always get free. I admit it, I'm swaddle-challenged.

When it came the day to leave the hospital, I had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, I couldn't wait to get out of that 10x10 room (including the bathroom) and into open freedom. On the other, it meant that all those helpful nurses and doctors wouldn't be a buzzer away. I couldn't believe they weren't following us out.

The first car trip and arrival home to meet his dog Ubu was entertaining. Ubu found this little creature to be mildly entertaining but, true to form, still focussed on her needs of attention, feeding and exercise.

Thus, life at home has begun for Zachary... and hopefully sleep is involved to a great extent.