The Chair, Again

The chair is the same.

Less padding in its seat now, but that's ok because there's more in mine.

The green cushion is squished out of all recognisable shape and could never be interpreted as ever having been square now.

But the chair is the same.

The tune on the mobile is the same.

Your dark eyelashes rest against your flushed cheeks in the same way that they did three years ago, but now those cheeks aren't as round or chubby. The Cupid's bow of your lips is more pronounced, your nose longer and taking shape. Your hair darker and more coarse.

Your face is still squished against me in the familiar manner of a child desperately seeking comfort from his mother, desperately trying to take the pain (of yet another wretched ear infection) away.

You curl an arm around my neck and pull yourself closer. Bring your knees up to your chest as I wrap my right arm around your lower half tighter to stop you from slipping. My left arm is burning with the strange angle it is contorted into to hold you close. Three years ago I could hold you with one arm nestled into me and type up a blog post with my right hand on my phone. Now I need both arms to hold you tight, while your legs dangle almost to the floor over the edge of my lap.

I contemplate my next move. How do I lift you enough to place you back into bed? Waking you is not my concern, the sheer effort of standing up while holding you is enough to consider. I tuck you in and smooth your hair, positioning Oliver Monkey under your arm. When did you become so big? Tonight has proven though that you won't stop being my baby for quite some time yet.

And the chair is still the same.

The Chair

So what do you do?

When I was pregnant, we discussed this and there was no way on earth I was going to put up with it. Yet here I am! What am I waffling on about?

Bedtime practices & night-time disturbances.

I was going to be a 'put him down awake' type of mummy. I was going to be a 'he must learn to settle himself' type of mummy. Guess what? Turns out that I'm not!

When they're tiny weeny you can be cuddling them and all of a sudden they've fallen asleep. "Oh!" you say, "when did that happen?" So what are you supposed to do? Wake them up so you can then put them down in their moses basket awake (and screaming because they don't know why they're not asleep anymore)? What a prize bitch you'd have to be!

Anyway, I digress. We started with the bedtime 'awake under his cot mobile' malarky and it worked. Until he was 5 months old and learnt to roll over & grab the mobile. Hmmm, that went a bit wrong. Drop cot down a level, tuck end of sleeping bag in = sorted!

Then he got a bad cold. And he couldn't get to sleep flat on his back because his throat and nose got clogged up and he couldn't breathe and got scared. So to help this we cuddled him to sleep.

Oops!

And I say 'oops' because that's what we still have to do every night and he's 18 months old now.

Hmmm…

To be fair, I think it was also the change of milk-feeds that exacerbated the problem. If The Boy falls asleep in my arms having his bedtime bottle, what am I supposed to do; poke him 'til he wakes up & then ignore his tears? Just so I can do what Gina Ford says? (or as she is known in this house, 'evil, nazi woman')

So why am I sat here in this Ikea chair (you know the one; cream bucket chair, looks comfy but not when you've been sat in it for an hour and your arse is numb) holding my sleeping baby? 'Ignore him' you say. 'Let him cry it out' you say. 'No, bog off, he's my child' I say. I cannot listen to him cry. Can't do it. I'm not an advocate of controlled crying, I actually think it's a bit cruel (* disclaimer at bottom)

The reason why I won't use it is because The Boy does not wake up or play silly buggers at night. He slept through from 10pm – 6am at 6 weeks old! He goes down at 7.30pm & wakes up about 6.30am+. If he cries in the night, it will be because he's suffering from wind (he still gets colicky pains sometimes) or teething pains. And then he's sobbing in his sleep. I can't ignore him when he's hurting, it goes against every cell in my body.

So we cuddle him. It's not like we're going to be doing it forever. Can you imagine? 15 years old? Exactly.

And we have stopped excusing ourselves because he's our child! I don't criticise you for using a dummy with your three and a half year old child, or when he nutted The Boy on his 4 month old nose, so don't condemn me. (Oh I appear to be having a go at a work colleague here. How did that happen?)

And anyway, look at him…

God, my arse is numb.

(* I apologise to anyone to whom I may have caused offense: I'm not implying you're bad mothers if you use controlled crying, you're braver than I am. That's why your child is asleep, and I'm awake at 2am!)

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