Baby Brain in Action: Travel Post Part One

In Thailand

We had only been together one year when we set off overseas. That was nine years ago. We were young and without responsibility. I already loved him a lot, but I wasn't above imagining that we might yet wave goodbye to one another from some Parisian platform or other and head off different directions. That is the charm of travel, isn't it? That anything can happen?

Obviously we stuck together. In fact, the longer we travelled side by side, the more absurd the idea of parting seemed. Later, we married. I guess that's what people do when they can't stand to be apart.

We were away from Australia for nearly two years; seven months in Asia. We had adventures – some of them I will tell my child while she is small. Some I'll recount when she is older. Quite a few I may never repeat for fear that she'll see them as permission to be as stupid and foolhardy and reckless with her life as I was. At the time I didn't realise that I would one day look back, shuddering, to think that I got away with it all. I was just having fun.

It is a truism to say that life changes when you have a baby, but I think this shift is most apparent to me when I attempt to do the things I used to do when I was childless, and they either don't succeed, or are so changed by the company of this new, small person as to be unrecognisable to me. Simple things like going out for dinner (once a regular pass-time, a favourite, taken-for-granted aspect of our lives) has, in four short months, become obsolete. Showering – no longer a languid, solitary pleasure – is now hurried, a one-woman sing-a-long with suds. Perhaps it is another truism to say that I don't always mind the changes parenthood has brought. They aren't all bad. I wouldn't swap all the long, hot showers in the world for this little girl. In fact, having her has brought new life to the dull things I used to do, changing them for the better. Supermarket shopping, walking, hanging washing on the line: I see the way my daughter looks around her when we are in the world, and I find the world freshly beautiful. Buttons? So colourful! Beautiful! Toast? So crunchy! Beautiful! This carpet? So soft! Beautiful! This grey day? So crisp! Beautiful! We watch leaves falling like rain in our yard and I don't lament the cold, or the work they will make in raking and sweeping and cleaning gutters. I just enjoy how lovely it is to behold so many yellow shapes floating, because she does.

I set out to write all about travelling with a baby, but I seem to have gotten distracted and sidetracked. How fitting. Once upon a time, I might have revised this, or saved it and come back later, determined to get to the point. But I think that, for tonight, I will leave this post here. I will close the computer. I will go into my bedroom and peer into the cot.  I will look at the face of my baby, so angelic in sleep. I will think about how much has changed in my life since I boarded a plane, one-way ticket in hand.
And how much for the better.

Sleep. Glorious Sleep.

Are they sleeping well? Are they sleeping through the night? Are you following a sleep routine? Are YOU getting any sleep? Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep. I would say that 50% of your post-baby discussions are around sleep (the other 50% are around food/bodily excretions which I put in the same category, as never before has the relationship between what goes in and what comes out been so clear).

I LOVE sleep. I can sleep anywhere and for long periods of time and when I wake, I am always planning my next opportunity for more sleep. This does not bode well for an expectant mother-to-be. Fast forward to Atticus now being almost 11 weeks old. He doesn’t cry much, generally only has one feed each night and sleeps lots during the day. This means that I too am getting a reasonable amount of sleep (although nowhere near my usual requirement of 10 hours a night!). As I am no baby whisperer and can generally be quite a stressed person, my only explanation for having a chilled out baby so far (mums learn very quickly not to count their chickens) is that we have used the Save our sleep book and routine from day one (I still refer to it every day). Now I know that Save our sleep and other similar baby sleep advice books are highly polarising so I’m definitely not saying that everyone needs to go out and join the “cult”, I just wanted to share some of the things from that book that appear (because nothing is ever certain with a baby) to have worked well for us so far.

1. Following a routine (any routine will do!). Sleep books set out quite strict routines to follow as your baby grows (your maternal health nurse will probably tell you that they are too strict). We have tried to follow the Save our sleep routines since we got home from the hospital. What I like about using a routine is that both Andy and I are on the same page so that we both know what is “supposed” to be happening when. It also has given us confidence to try things like expressing and self settling right from the start because they are slotted into the routines. I also love that Atticus’s bedtime is 7pm which leaves the next three hours for Andy and I to have dinner together, catch up and chill out; and even though we are often talking about Atticus, I don’t feel like our relationship has turned completely into the Atticus show.

After banging on about using routines, I should say that it’s not as if I’m sitting at home every day rigidly watching the clock. I “break” the routine pretty much every day as we are out and about but I do try to generally stick to a few principals (7am up, 7pm bedtime, dreamfeed at 10.30pm and I’ll keep an eye on how much sleep he gets during the day to try to find time for a catch up sleep at some stage in the afternoon).

2. Identifying which cry is which (which is emotional and which is a protest). Knowing from the start to listen out for two different types of cries has meant that we were more confident to let Atticus self settle when we thought he was just protesting. On the other hand, the second we hear what we think is an emotional cry, we pick him up straight away and try to figure out if it’s food, wind, temperature etc. Notice I say “think” because it’s sometimes very hard to tell the difference.

3. Not waiting for tired signs as that’s often too late. This links back to following the routine. When I’m home, I put Atticus to bed during the day in line with the routine rather than waiting for him to start yawning or being sleepy. A few times when we have probably kept him up for too long, he’s been extremely irritable and if he has reached this stage, pretty much the only solution is to feed him continuously for a long time and then we can finally get him to bed.

4. Wake a sleeping baby…. gently. Most people say, don’t wake a sleeping baby (probably cos you’re so damn happy that they’re sleeping so why in the hell would you disturb it?!?). In line with the routine, we wake Atticus up for his next feed (if he’s not already woken himself up). I assume that this is in routines so that they don’t oversleep during the day? But for me, I like it for the selfish reason that it helps me keep track of how much sleep he’s had during the day. For example he’s now on a four hour feed routine which involves 2 hours of feeding & play followed by 2 hours of sleep which is pretty easy for my still in overdrive pregnancy brain to keep track of. I do feel a bit mean waking him up so I just do it very gently by loosening his swaddle and he’ll gradually wake up usually doing quite a humourous, exaggerated big stretch!

5. Self settling tips. Even when we put him to bed fully awake, Atticus is pretty good at just hanging by himself and falling asleep at some stage. At times he protests and we will typically leave him alone to self settle himself (whether this be when we have put him to bed or when he wakes up during a sleep). But if the protesting continues, some of the things we do which seem to help Atticus are: go in and rub his belly or stroke his forehead, if it’s his night time sleep sometimes just switching on a dull lamp in his room works, or we might need to pick him up, re-swaddle him and give him a bit of a cuddle to calm him down.

I think the important thing about being confident with the self settling goes back to my point number 2 about knowing the difference between their cries. You could think that you’re “failing” at self settling because your baby keeps screaming but it might have been an emotional cry rather than protesting for that whole time and so they would never be able to settle (except if they fall asleep through pure exhaustion at all the screaming). So I guess my advice is, only try to self settle when you’re sure they are just protesting, otherwise pick up that baby and give it whatever it needs!

So these are my sleep thoughts at week 10.5. This could all possibly go to hell next week but I hope to god not as I’m still that girl that loves sleep, glorious sleep.

Just Peachy

This week has been a tough one. A long dark tea time of the soul kind of tough. A combination of baby-routine induced cabin fever and the realisation that I enter my thirties this week has left me with a sense of melancholy and a very short fuse. 

I thought I might break out of this with a trip into Melbourne on Tuesday, but as those with babies know all plans must be flexible and Frankie’s sudden requirement for a nap at 9.15 left plans ‘fluid’. The day quickly turned into yet another day of homeliness and only further compounded my ennui. 

Now don’t get me wrong, I love being home with Frankie and I love living in Kyneton. But lately Frankie’s need to have nice long naps in her own cot has meant our waking hours are spent within a prams walk; at the park, the shops or just at home in the lounge. The little bundle I used to put in the wrap for a whole day out now wants to crawl, standup and grab and hit things. A once soothing train ride which would lull a baby to sleep in minutes are now spent wiggling on mama’s lap trying to touch other people’s things, or elicit smiles from strangers the way only babies can. It’s exhausting. 

So Wednesday came and I woke up the baby to make the 11.11 train. The hour journey felt about three hours long with all the wiggling and whinging and laughing crying and three nappy changes (in one hour people!). 

Hungry and already feeling ready to go home we made it to the gallery, got some food and enjoyed an entirely pleasant meal together with minimal mess and a cheery baby talking to lots of people on the surrounding tables. Ready for some art viewing, I plonked baby in the pram. Then I got distracted for less than 10 seconds reaching for the fresh nappies, which was all it took for my precious wiggler to launch her unsecured self out of the pram and head first onto the concrete. 

She was in shock, and was a little bit hurt. I was in shock and may have PTSD. As I stood there clutching a wailing baby to my chest willing the hurt to be better, another mother rushed over and asked if we were both ok, patting me on the shoulder and telling me that I probably feel worse than she does so don’t worry - that makes it sound like she was rubbing it in but it was done with tenderness and sincerity which was lovely. The crowd of concerned faces only made me feel worse. 

It didn’t take long for Frankie to stop crying. I coat checked the stupid pram and kept her in the sling, as close to me as I could. The sling was better for seeing her tiny eyes widen at all the art - it was amazing that she was so interested. After a sedate wander through the galleries she fell asleep at my chest. And I kept checking that she was still breathing. 

A day out in the rainy Melbourne air did help shake me out of my home funk. Frankie has a tiny red mark on her head but no egg and I have a greater appreciation for pram seat buckles.

Frankie's photo of the stained glass in the Great Hall at NGV.

ps. the title of this post refers to this article.