2 am and I hear it. A chirping. Like a request really. Not so much a demand, but more of a request for attention. I try to ignore it, but I know that the longer I wait, the more insistent the requester will become. After about five minutes I get up and head to the office/impromptu nursery. N is there, eyes open, chirping. Waiting. He knows that I'm coming, and thankfully uses this knowledge to keep the crying at bay. He's very patient.
After unswaddling him and sitting down to feed him, I sort of doze off. It's 2 am and I've been doing this for nearly two months. I'm tired, and he doesn't really need my help to eat anyway - not any more than to just hold him. Suddenly, the little guy arches his little back, scrunches up his little face, and grunts ferociously. He immediately looks relieved and goes on about the business of eating. I don't pay this a lot of mind. He does this from time to time. I'm half asleep anyway.
At least, I was half asleep until I realized that my arm was very warm. My stomach, also warm. Also, what is that smell exactly anyway?
Right. Now my son is quite happily eating and apparently oblivious to the fact that both he and I and the pillow he is laying on are all covered with poo. Who can be bothered with such things when you're drowsy and warm and snuggled up eating?
Apparently I can be bothered. I refused to let 2 am feeding continue until I had cleaned us all and started the washer. This one wasn't like the whole "point it down" incident. I'm not sure HOW we could have avoided this. At least no one ended up with poo in their hair. That would have made things much more complicated.
1 comment:
oh my goodness that is hilarious. I just love your stories. I am sure that I too will be the recipient of such love as well. And I don't blame you for interrupting feeding time to clean up...that is the only respectable thing to do. How long is he sleeping through the night...should be getting close to giving you guys a little more rest. 8 weekish
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