"This is a phase. This too shall pass."

I swear I have half a dozen half-written posts saved as drafts here but I just haven't been able to go back and finish them. 

They're abit more interesting than my usual grumblings and ramblings though.

So hopefully I'll be able to go back to them soon.

Yesterday was X's 4-month well-baby check up at the maternal and child health nurse.

Well, technically he's only 3 months and 3 weeks, but it's close enough.

Stats:

66cm long (90th percentile)

7.004kg (75th percentile)

He is the size of an average 6-month old now.

And it's putting a hole in our pocket to try and keep up with his clothes.

Even worse now that it's getting colder and colder each day (less than 10 degrees celcius last night!) and we need warmer clothes for him.

Thank goodness for baby markets that sell pre-loved baby stuff.

I just can't believe he's a whopping 7kgs now!

That would explain why my injured wrist has never recovered.

And also why rocking him when he's upset is getting more and more tiring.

Oh and don't forget the charts that tell us which percentile he's on now for height and weight are based on the ginormous ang moh aussie babies here.

Goodness only knows where he'll be on the charts meant for regular puny-sized asian babies.

I have a whole post in mind about 4 months.

And how it sucks.

And how it's a reality check that motherhood is not all it's cracked up to be.

But my sleep-deprived mind is not allowing the formulation of much organised thoughts.

Wanna know how sleep deprived I am?

Here's an insider's view.

For the past 3 nights, 

my nights have looked like this:

5.30pm - bedtime routine of bath and boob.

6.30pm - put down half-asleep in crib. mummy tries to eat dinner with daddy.

7pm - wake up screaming. daddy tries to burp baby. no use. boob and down in crib at 7.30pm.

8.45pm - wake up screaming again. daddy tries rock and shush. no use. mummy tries. no use. boob and down in crib again at 9.30pm

10.15pm - wake up screaming AGAIN. tried to give boob. refuse. scream louder. rock. falls asleep. gently put down to sleep. opens eyes and starts screaming. lather, rinse, repeat. and repeat. and repeat.

12.30am - finally stays down when put down.

2.15am - wake up hungry. boob. falls asleep at boob. put down. wakes up and grins at mummy. then realises mummy's not picking him up. scream. more boob.

3.30am - put down asleep. mummy climbs into bed. head hits pillow for 3 seconds. baby lets out a giant fart audible from the next room. followed up massive stream of poop. cue big sigh from mummy. change diaper. mummy trying to open eyes and not smear butt cream on his face. baby tries to coo and laugh at mummy but mummy doesn't respond. cue crying. mummy gives boob again.

5am - finally stays asleep when put down. mummy crawls back into bed.

 

6am - daddy wakes up for work. running shower sorta wakes mummy.

7am - daddy leaves for work. hugs and kisses for mummy.

7.30am - baby wakes up. mummy tries to ignore. then construction site outside starts banging away. baby starts shouting. then mummy can't sleep no more.

give or take half hour here and there.

the night before, for the first time in almost 4 months, i took him into bed with me at the beginning of the night.

i thought i'd get more sleep that way.

i was wrong.

so damn wrong.

no matter how hard i forced myself to just sleep,

i find myself awake and listening to him breathe next to me.

WTH.

maybe it's just because i was spoilt with my good sleeper from before this whole four-month crap crept up on us.
he used to sleep from 7pm all the way to 2am, then feed and back to sleep immediately until 7plus in the morning.
occasionally with another feed at 5am.
that i loved.
wasn't much sleep either, but i could handle it.
but this?
this nonsense?
i'm dying here people.

so yes.

at times like this, i admit.

motherhood can suck balls sometimes.

it's tough as shit.

it's hard as hell.

it drives me batty and up the wall with frustration.

doesn't help that at 4 months, people have this insane expectation that your life should be back to normal already.

that the baby should be sleeping all night already.

that sleep deprivation is not an excuse already.

and the fact that people seem to forget that the breastfeeding mother still has the same extra needs for rest, nutrition, love and compassion as she did in those first few weeks.

but man, that tidal wave of love can still hit you like a freaking 100 feet high tsunami at the craziest moments.

like when he just peed and pooped all over your hands.

and then he laughs.

and all is forgiven.

until next time.



as they say,
this is just a phase.
this too shall pass.
things will get better.
then they'll get worse.
and better again.
and worse.
and better.
then they go off to college.
and then they have their own.
HAH.