Getting By
As mentioned yesterday, Abbie has an ear infection. It cleared quickly, and she’s doing better now. Yesterday morning was rough though as Abbie was coping with ear pain while functioning on about six hours of fitful sleep overnight. I wasn’t doing much better as I was coping with her ear pain on top of functioning on about four hours of sleep after listening to her fitful sleeping all night.
Somehow we had to survive the morning until the fluid could drain and naptime arrived. Despite their sister’s intermittent screams through the night, the boys slept well enough to be in a good mood. Abbie had no such luck. I quickly discovered that Abbie would be content as long as I kept her little plastic dish filled with Fruit Rings throughout the morning. This kept her occupied by (a) giving her something to eat, and (b) giving her something to feed to the dog. I think she achieved a 50/50 ratio of Rings for her, and Rings for the dog. I was a little worried about the effects that a mega-dose of neon-colored, sugar-coated rings of highly-preserved dangerously-sugary cereal would have on a sick girl,* but I figured that maybe her body would be helped by at least one of those 12 essential vitamins and minerals it was fortified with, possibly riboflavin.
Somehow I needed to replicate the mental state of a well-rested parent. Fortunately a “well-rested” parent is mostly a theoretical concept that’s difficult to find, like dark matter or a glimmer of hope for Cub fans, so I only needed to approximate my normal, adequately rested mental state. I know how I get when I’m tired. I lose my patience quickly, which isn’t fair to Abbie when she’s still young enough to need 1,025,340 reminders to get off the table and another 84,501 repetitions of being gently pulled off the table before it finally sinks in, and even then there’s a 1-in-2 chance that she’ll still spill water all over the floor trying to pull a cup off the table. I also have difficulty remembering things, like whether that scoop of formula I just dumped in the bottle was its first or second, which child was last changed when, and important blog-worthy anecdotes.
Fortunately I know a few coping tricks for surviving on four hours sleep. I learned a few things in college, and by “college” I mean “Abbie’s baby months when I didn’t know any better and would routinely stumble into bed eight hours before her regularly-scheduled wake time, and then spend half the night hoping she was about to drift back to sleep.
First I needed to get some food in me, get the body going, the brain firing, and that little hamster wheel spinning. After spending over an hour feeding all other humans in the house plus the cats, I sat down to a nice big bowl of cereal. Then I had a piece of toast. And some orange juice. Another piece of toast. Maybe a handful of chocolate chips. A drink of water to cleanse the pallet. Those strawberries were tasty…
Sufficiently bloated with carbs, I moved into the living room for a session of my special sleepy-time supervision. When Abbie was the boys’ age and I needed a little rest, I’d set her in her room where she’d be safe, lay down across the doorway so she’d have to climb over me to leave, and rest my eyes. I wouldn’t fall asleep, but I would rest for a few minutes in a minimally conscious state while she played, ready to spring into parenting action at the first whimper. It might not sound like much help, but I survived a morning with the flu like this.
I set the boys down in the living room, lay across the entryway, and rested my eyes. I’d been horizontal for about three seconds before Abbie started climbing on me. That was okay; I could still rest like that. Then she started bouncing on my stomach. After that I went into a minimally conscious mode sitting up. It wasn’t as restful, but it did allow me to keep better watch of the kids. This turned out to be extra rewarding when I witnessed Ian rolling into a sitting position unassisted for the first time. It also turned out to be necessary when I had to leap forward to save him from falling flat on his face from a sitting position.
With a lot of vigilance and patience on my part, we made it to naptime. Abbie was feeling a lot better by then, and took her average two-hour nap. I was hoping for closer to three hours, especially when she woke up extraordinarily grumpy. Fortunately I knew how to handle her: Fruit Rings.
* And the dog.
Somehow we had to survive the morning until the fluid could drain and naptime arrived. Despite their sister’s intermittent screams through the night, the boys slept well enough to be in a good mood. Abbie had no such luck. I quickly discovered that Abbie would be content as long as I kept her little plastic dish filled with Fruit Rings throughout the morning. This kept her occupied by (a) giving her something to eat, and (b) giving her something to feed to the dog. I think she achieved a 50/50 ratio of Rings for her, and Rings for the dog. I was a little worried about the effects that a mega-dose of neon-colored, sugar-coated rings of highly-preserved dangerously-sugary cereal would have on a sick girl,* but I figured that maybe her body would be helped by at least one of those 12 essential vitamins and minerals it was fortified with, possibly riboflavin.
Somehow I needed to replicate the mental state of a well-rested parent. Fortunately a “well-rested” parent is mostly a theoretical concept that’s difficult to find, like dark matter or a glimmer of hope for Cub fans, so I only needed to approximate my normal, adequately rested mental state. I know how I get when I’m tired. I lose my patience quickly, which isn’t fair to Abbie when she’s still young enough to need 1,025,340 reminders to get off the table and another 84,501 repetitions of being gently pulled off the table before it finally sinks in, and even then there’s a 1-in-2 chance that she’ll still spill water all over the floor trying to pull a cup off the table. I also have difficulty remembering things, like whether that scoop of formula I just dumped in the bottle was its first or second, which child was last changed when, and important blog-worthy anecdotes.
Fortunately I know a few coping tricks for surviving on four hours sleep. I learned a few things in college, and by “college” I mean “Abbie’s baby months when I didn’t know any better and would routinely stumble into bed eight hours before her regularly-scheduled wake time, and then spend half the night hoping she was about to drift back to sleep.
First I needed to get some food in me, get the body going, the brain firing, and that little hamster wheel spinning. After spending over an hour feeding all other humans in the house plus the cats, I sat down to a nice big bowl of cereal. Then I had a piece of toast. And some orange juice. Another piece of toast. Maybe a handful of chocolate chips. A drink of water to cleanse the pallet. Those strawberries were tasty…
Sufficiently bloated with carbs, I moved into the living room for a session of my special sleepy-time supervision. When Abbie was the boys’ age and I needed a little rest, I’d set her in her room where she’d be safe, lay down across the doorway so she’d have to climb over me to leave, and rest my eyes. I wouldn’t fall asleep, but I would rest for a few minutes in a minimally conscious state while she played, ready to spring into parenting action at the first whimper. It might not sound like much help, but I survived a morning with the flu like this.
I set the boys down in the living room, lay across the entryway, and rested my eyes. I’d been horizontal for about three seconds before Abbie started climbing on me. That was okay; I could still rest like that. Then she started bouncing on my stomach. After that I went into a minimally conscious mode sitting up. It wasn’t as restful, but it did allow me to keep better watch of the kids. This turned out to be extra rewarding when I witnessed Ian rolling into a sitting position unassisted for the first time. It also turned out to be necessary when I had to leap forward to save him from falling flat on his face from a sitting position.
With a lot of vigilance and patience on my part, we made it to naptime. Abbie was feeling a lot better by then, and took her average two-hour nap. I was hoping for closer to three hours, especially when she woke up extraordinarily grumpy. Fortunately I knew how to handle her: Fruit Rings.
* And the dog.
posted by Matt at
11:53 PM
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