Lies, Lies, Lies

This is a quote from our favorite parenting book, The Portable Pediatrician:

"At this age [two months], you can rock the baby, or nurse the baby, or give a bottle until the baby is sound asleep, them put him in the crib, and count on a good night's sleep for all."

Lies. Lies, lies, lies.

Last night, Jay was very sick. While he was puking his guts up, sweating through a 102 degree fever, and trying to recover from six weeks without sleep, I was taking care of Jamie. At one point, I slept for 20 straight minutes--on the floor, sans blanket, collapsed on Jamie's Boppy pillow. Twenty straight minutes, and I was grateful for it.

Jamie was almost two weeks old when he came home from the hospital. He ate every three hours and slept peacefully the rest of the time. Everyone was amazed at what a good baby we had.

WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?

Jamie cries practically every second that he isn't attached to another human body--except when he's sleeping (upon another human body who must stay awake to ensure that Jamie doesn't fall off said other human body).

Jamie defies scheduling.
Jamie's bed has to be elevated because of his reflux.
Jamie has to have his bottle at just the right temperature.
Jamie has to be held upright thirty minutes after every feeding.
Jamie has to have his pacifer held in his mouth because sometimes he doesn't want to suck it--he just wants it to lay in his mouth.
Jamie has to have noise in the room (he destests silence).
Jamie has to sleep in the living room with one of us on the couch while the other sleeps in the bedroom with the cat.

If any one of these situations isn't perfectly adequate, he cries. Boy, does he cry.

He drives me crazy. . . except for the fifteen minutes out of every day that he decides to sleep peacefully. When he does that, Jay and I (who are suffering from severe short term memory loss due to sleep deprivation) look at Jamie and declare him to be an angel. We then marvel at how anyone could ever complain about babies; clearly, ours is perfect.