My baby is a machine. He’s like the Terminator. Or like that girl Vicki from Small Wonder, with less creepiness. He eats, he plays, and then he sleeps. No child has ever been programmed this […]
My baby is a machine. He’s like the Terminator. Or like that girl Vicki from Small Wonder, with less creepiness. He eats, he plays, and then he sleeps. No child has ever been programmed this well.
Like most babies, this baby loves to eat. His eyes light up every time his head gets tilted into a feeding position. More than once, I’ve found that he just glares at me when I hold him against my chest for a long period of time. He looks so disappointed. The man loves his milk.
Just after breas feeding, my baby resembles a drunken old man stumbling out of a bar. He looks around with wandering eyes, not sure where to put his mouth. Though hardly verbal, the little dude mumbles constantly, as though telling his mother to stop hassling him about his drinking problem.
The little guy begins a one-hour play period immediately after eating. “Play” can involve staring at the same painting for 20 minutes, burping and then laughing at himself, or kicking his keyboard. He also enjoys smiling. Occasionally, this period might be interrupted by a car ride or a bowel movement. The structure is not necessarily strict. We try to keep him awake for a while before he hibernates.
Hibernation is a difficult task. Once achieved, the beast is difficult to arouse. Before the deep sleep kicks in, however, this kid puts up a decent fight. He whimpers, insults our mothers, and cries “a plague on both your houses!” He does most of this with his eyes, of course. He has very expressive eyes.
According to books we bought somewhere, this structure will result in full feedings, which will then lead to a full night’s sleep. That’s what the experts say. I doubt this works for everyone, because babies are independent little hipsters that blaze their own trails, but it has somehow worked for us. Just this past week, my little guy started sleeping over seven hours a night. Seven!
He is a glorious, perfect little machine. Thanks for the sleep, robot baby.