#007 Feeding Time

Yeah, it's 2:30 in the morning, and once again, I'm writing. About an hour ago, I heard some rumblings next to me. I turned over to see my wife with Gabriel. I asked her "do you want any help?"

"Yes honey. He needs changed and fed. I'll down and warm up a bottle if you can change him now." She quickly turns over the kid to me and heads downstairs. Hmm...

Well, that was a first. When I say "first," I mean it was the first time I've been awake enough help and my wife has been exhausted enough to accept my offer. This must be a good sign!

I'm not sure what it is about this child, but neither of us are getting frustrated by him yet. I mean, sure it's only been a week and a half, but we still do not get irritated at him when he is this needy this late at night.

It kind of reminds me of a joke I heard about a guy that moved from the sun belt to the snow belt. I would paste it into this blog, but it's a bit to racy, so I'll do the honor of paraphrasing it.

In the beginning, he marveled at the snowfall. He and his wife enjoyed cocktails while watching the flakes fall, and awoke the next morning to a beautiful white blanket covering their lawn and driveway. Later that morning, he spent some time experiencing the joy of shoveling the snow out of his driveway for the first time in years. He talked about how the snowplow driver came by after he finished shoveling, and deposited even more snow on his driveway. He loved it!

However...

As time went on and snow continued to fall, he patience grew less and less. Before long, he grew tired of the "white death" falling from the sky and was going to kill the snowplow driver if he ever saw him.

I certainly hope that doesn't happen here.

So, I get up, change his diaper (whew!) and settle into his feeding. After finishing 3 oz of breast milk, he's looking a bit lucid, so I lay him into his bed. I put the blanket around him and then hear the sound of "snow" coming out of his caboose.

Time to change him again. Oh great. It's a blizzard. Where's my snowshovel?

As I'm changing him, I notice he's not crying or fussing at all. This is normally a good sign, because it means he's content. However, after I finish, I notice his eyes are pretty open. He's looking around, quite alert, ready for the day. It's 2am.

Lovely.

Realizing sleep is not an option anymore, I decide to join my wife downstairs. She was downstairs working on replenishing his supply, and at the same time watching a little TV. I sit down with her and play with my son, all the while thinking "I need to be up in a few hours... why are you awake now?" We decide to feed him again. He eats another couple of ounces, and now he really is lethargic. I think we are making some headway now. I pick him up an it's everything he can do to keep his head from flopping to one side or the other. I put his head on my shoulder to burp him, and then lean him against my hand to try to burp him again. He finally lets one loose, but the whole time I'm doing this, his eyes are closed. Oh yeah, he's out for the count.

Yes!

The only problem is that now I'm awake. Hence, this blog. I'm getting a bit tired now, so I think I'll sign off. But before I go, I thought I'd be one of the first to wish my brother a "Happy 35th Birthday." My how time flies.

Hmm... I can go to bed now, at 3:20am, or stay up and watch "Tremors."

Zzzz....

Until next time...