And thus endeth the first week of going it alone with Arddun.
We’d been easing into each other’s company for a while now – I’ve been very, very fortunate to have first my mother over for a month, and then Tony for another two weeks. So really, I’ve nothing to complain about as far as time needed for learning the ropes is concerned. I eased into the whole solo Motherhood thing pretty gradually – the occasional outing with Arddun here and there, graveyard shifts alone etc.
But by week 6, I was actually looking forward to the solo flight – as if having the house to myself and Arddun during the day marked the actual start to True Motherhood and my old/new job as full-time housewife.
Also, a few things were starting to become apparent:
- our little princess, now used to prams and outings and noise and retail therapy, was starting to find a stationary cot in a quiet suburban house rather inconducive for nap time
- we’ve discovered how to yell louder by taking deeper breaths and supporting with the diaphragm
- and oh by the way, we love feeling weightless. Could you please spend all day pirouetting around the house violently like a loon, so I can fall asleep in the baby carrier? kthxbai.
For weeks, I’ve been vacillating between scheduling Arddun and going with her flow. Which became a moot point during week 6 going on 7, as Arddun decided that she’d forgotten how to fall asleep unassisted. Which meant one feed bled into the next, fastened loosely together by interminable crying, ending finally some time before midnight and resulting in two rounds of Unearthly Hour feeds by yours truly.
So this week, we started Sleep Boot Camp. No going out. No falling asleep by rocking movement induced by pram, car or mommy-carried pouch. The art of self-comforting and self-settling… the art of SLEEP is my gift to her this week. There is a sign outside my door about sleep camp. Let’s hope postmen and Jehovah’s Witnesses can read.