Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.
Let’s talk for a moment about sleeping.
First, I must admit that I’m incredibly fortunate in that my work schedule is more malleable than most. I’ve worked hard to create a functional network that I can monitor and service remotely, and while that means I’m never technically “off,” it also means that I have certain perks when it comes to requisite office hours. So, when I encounter nights like the one I had last night, where Daphne awoke three times and Jib four, I can sneak in an extra hour of sleep at home so I’m not utterly useless when I do get to my desk.
Speaking of which, that whole infant vs. sleep thing? It really hasn’t been as bad as advertised. *knock on wood*
Sure the kid needs to be fed every 3 hours or so (and she’s very forthright about letting us know that), and yes, that means our total rest time isn’t exactly clustered anymore, but sleep does happen. It’s feels a lot like rolling watch shifts while sailing offshore. We’d be on for 8 hours, then sleep 4. Rinse/repeat…for weeks.
It’s also quite likely that my wife has been an absolute superhero where this is concerned (she has), and has shielded me from the brunt of the late night responsibilities. Which means that, right now, she is glaring at this webpage and saying something to the effect of, “Not so bad, huh? Well then, tonight I think YOU can get up and let her suck your sternum out through your nipples every 3 hours. How’s that sound, Colonel Catnap?”
I love you very much, sweetie. And thank you for all you’re doing.
We have been assured that she will, eventually, begin to sleep through the night. I just hope she starts to shimmy to our circadian rhythms before Jen has to go back to work in September. Otherwise there’s liable to be trouble…