On Letting Sleeping Babies Lie

Leave me alone Mumma, I needs my beauty sleeps!

I've had very little time to blog lately because my sweet little pea pod has decided that crying is a lot of fun and seems unwilling to ever stop.  (Especially for her Momma who I'm starting to suspect she hates.) So, why do I have time to blog now?  It's because, for the first time in seven weeks, Madeline was put to bed alone.  Bum, bum, bummmmmmm.  

We've got an awesome three-sided co sleeper attached to my side of the bed.  I love it because it allows me to be close to my little nugget without the worry of accidentally squishing her in my sleep.  It makes those late night feedings so much easier.  

However, it also means that I'm pretty much constantly attached to my little milk monster.  When she goes to bed, so do I.  I lay right next to her and stare at her until I'm certain she's really sleeping.  I then relax a little before falling into a fitful catnap that gets interrupted every time Maddie grunts. (Which is often...my gal's a real grunter...and a real farter too.)  I haven't slept under the sheets and covers since bringing her home either.  Instead, I only drape the down comforter over myself.  I'm not sure why I do this.  It's not like the three layers of bedding are going to prevent me from grabbing my child if she starts crying...I have issues.  

So, for her momma's sanity, we decided to start implementing her bedtime routine tonight.  She's almost two months old...I think she can handle it.  I gave her a bath, brought her into the bedroom, rubbed her down with some warm lotion, put her in her jammies, and fed her while telling her a story.  Luckily, for the first time all week, my little fussy-pants fell asleep when I wanted her to.  I then tiptoed out into the living room to spend some quiet time blogging hanging out with Eric.  (To be fair, he's watching the Celtics game anyhow.  And while my favorite ginger, Brian Scalabrine, is in fact playing, it's just not the same watching him in Chicago red instead of Celtics green.)  

Meanwhile, I'm really, really worried about Madeline in the next room over.  I'm sitting at the computer typing this with the baby monitor jacked up really loud.  I can hear the neighbor in the apartment next door playing video games through my baby monitor...that's how loud it is.   What's she doing in there?  Is she okay?  Has she snuck out to hang out with the no-good baby from the down the hall?  (No, she's actually sleeping soundly, you dimwit because she doesn't have you creepily staring at her while she tries her best to get some beauty sleep.)

How do people with big houses make this work?  I'm in a very small apartment.  My little pumpkin pie is literally only a few footsteps away.  I probably don't even really need a baby monitor because, like I said, I can hear the neighbor playing video games next door.  Still, it's nerve wracking not being in there with her.  I've already snuck in there...twice...just to make sure the baby monitor is working correctly.  Luckily, a few minutes ago she started farting and grunting again, so I know all is well.  

Anyhow, this experience has confirmed that I need to relax and let go a little bit more.  My nerves are at their breaking point with all this colic nonsense as it is, I owe it to myself to let her sleep while I have at least an hour of baby-free time.  Life needs to start returning to some normalcy.  

Besides, tomorrow I take an even scarier step.  I'm driving to Connecticut for the day for a dear friend's bridal shower.  That means I will be apart from my little peanut for almost a whole day!  I trust in Eric's babysitting parenting skills, but I'm not sure I trust in my OMG-I'm-leaving-my-baby-in-a-whole-different-state skills.  We'll see.  First step, get through the next hour without checking on her again.  (Unless of course she needs me.)

Moral of the story?  Mommy has separation anxiety.