So, we made it through the first two weeks. Phoebe is actually a pretty easy baby, at least we think so. Minimal fussing, usually the result of an overlooked diaper or a stubborn milk bubble in need of attention. Either way, the solution is usually about one minute in the making, so, not bad.
The trickiest part, sore nipples aside, has been getting enough sleep. Phoebe gets plenty. She seems to have inherited her dad’s gift for napping, rather than my sometime insomnia and total reluctance to sleep during the day. But adjusting to the three-hour loop of waking up for feedings day and night has left Paul and I in a bit of a baby haze.
And we even had help. Paul’s mom was here for a week and a half, cooking, cleaning and brushing Carter. But still, when sleep eludes, parents get tired. Which, in our case, leads to…watching TV on the sofa. Instead of the productive projects we pictured ourselves tackling during Paul’s first two weeks of paternity leave–filling in the baby book, scanning family photos, re-potting plants for the terrace–we found ourselves recovering in the comfort of the remote. And this is not good TV. It’s decidedly bad TV. Of course I’m grateful that we finally have SKY TV (aka satellite TV) but we’re talking about old episodes of Scrubs, Friends and Gilmore Girls — and that’s the good stuff. (We avoid According to Jim and Dr. 90210.) Actually feeling our IQs drop a few points each night, we put a stop it on Saturday, declaring it a TV-free day.
And what a day it was. Suddenly there was music in the house. Some conversation. Phew! So, don’t worry Phoebe. We’re back. Your normal parents, the ones who enjoy the company of real people, a little witty banter and above all, a well-deserved nap. Trust us, we need it.