11:34 p.m. He's still asleep, and I have only checked on him twice. I can't get over the need to see his little chest rising and falling, to know he's still alive, even though he's so quiet. He's almost 14 months and beyond the point where we need to worry about that, but I can't help it.
Pete's at a gig, and I know I should go to bed, because the baby will most likely wake up soon, but I need some time to myself.
I have had two nights of at least five hours of sleep. Ok, they were separated into 2.5 hour chunks each night, but it's better than what I have been experiencing. Pete has taken over primary night-time duty to get me some rest. I did some light reading and discovered one commentary on night waking that proposed that babies going through developmental changes will start to wake up at night to "practice" what they have been learning.
So I watched him.
When Pete brings him to me, Finn latches on, chills out immediately, nurses for about ten minutes, unlatches, and thrashes around. Asleep. He gets up on all fours; he flips over; he scoots around; he sits up; he throws himself down and then stays still. It is exactly the sort of thing he is doing during the day since he figured out crawling and moving his little baby body around.
We bought a new book about getting babies to sleep. It worked for a friend. My hopes are not high, especially when it comes to getting through a book that is not related to Revolutionary American History, but we'll see how it goes. It means I have to stay out of "Founding Brothers" and "Alexander Hamilton" once I am finished with "His Excellency."
I don't know if I can do it...
11:50 p.m. Still asleep. Still breathing.