(I wrote this as it was happening; first draft was in the third person. I clearly am fighting within myself to both stay engaged and distance myself.)
10:05 am - Monito falls asleep
10:06 am - Pequita's snack time begins. Prunes. Mmmmm.
10:30 am - Pequita and I retire to the dark nursery and read Snowmen At Night twice with a bottle of breast milk. Pequita is so drowsy she needs help holding her bottle up.
10:50 am - I carry Pequita into her crib in the master bedroom and we turn on the white noise machine we sleep with. Still no blackout shades; no chance to get to the store yet. I lay her down in her crib, she starts to cry, the bottle quiets her although her eyes are wary. The phone rings* and I zip out to answer it so it stops bothering her. Screaming.
11:00 am - I go in to comfort her. I notice that in my mental disarray with all the crying and stress I forgot to raise the crib side. She could vault out of the crib like that with no effort at all. Damn. I spend a minute wondering if Child Protective Services reads blogs. I hug Pequita's now very sweaty head to my neck (it takes a lot of energy to scream with confused anger at the top of your little tiny lungs for 10 minutes straight) and she quiets down. After 5 minutes her breathing returns to normal & I lay her down again to immediate crying. I leave. I am on the computer in the office only about 15 feet from the crib listening to her scream and jump up and down (now safely) in her crib. Blessedly, Monito stays napping downstairs.
This is what I am suffering through, taken by poking the camera through the bedroom door. She cannot see it. I feel like I should be suffering, since she is. Skip this if crying upsets you. I would, if I could.
11:15 am - I go in to comfort her. Her whole body is now sweaty from exertion. I haven't been picking her up when I go in because she is so likely to fall asleep in my arms and I want her to fall asleep in her crib. I hug her, our bodies pressed against each other through the bars of the crib side. I support her butt with one hand and her shoulders with the other while cooing to her. She is so tired that she dozes off in this position, sagging against my arms. I lay her down and we start again with the screaming. As soon as I lay her down she moves, preferring to spend her time crouched in the corner of her crib nearest the door clutching the bars of her prison. I leave, hear Monito chirp and go fetch him. He grins at me and spits up all down my front, the smelly spit up that's been cooking in his belly for an hour. Luckily I am wearing Polartec and it slides right off my shirt onto the pile of clean laundry I was folding.
11:30 am - I go in to comfort her. 40 minutes of this process is my limit. In our last attempt, I patted her belly and cooed to her and she goes to sleep. She sleeps for 35 minutes. My rule is that once she sleeps and wakes, naptime is over. I can't put her through that again so soon. My hope is that the duration of sleep will increase as she gets less upset beforehand. Does anyone who has kids and is reading have thoughts? I am really not sure about this piece. There are books & experts who say all different things.
*Pequita now has an appointment with the University baby psych studies for tomorrow. Something about vision. That will help break up our afternoon.